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The Chronicles of a Legend
This is going to have my thoughts, some of my discoveries, and any other random stuff I can think of.
Black Void 27
Neo Chronicles: Black Void

Episode 27: This Dude's Annoying

Table of Contents

He's weird.

His two big ol' bugged out eyes look up to the ceiling as he lets out a frustrated sigh.

“I just don't get it,” he says.

As he sighs, he stretches out those four insect wings—two for protection, two for flying—like a beetle I guess, showing off his slender insecty body. Dang, I used to remember what that was called from my ninth grade biology class. Bugs got a head, a something, and a thorax, right? Whatever the case he's got 'em.

“This the kinda food you eat?” he comments on the lunch on my plate. It's the closest thing I found that resembles fried chicken. Not exactly chicken, but it's fried, and it tastes like some sorta meat. Gotta say, all my time wandering around in space, this pirate ship's the only place I've been that's had decent food. The cooks here can cook, and that's the only thing this place's got goin' for it.

“What do you want?” I ask.

I don't know why my least favorite, red hornet looking pal decided to seek me out in the mess hall and sit across the table from me. He saw the other guys in the room walk past me. He saw me sitting alone. He knows I wanna be left alone. Yet, here he is.

“No mosst,” he says. “That's what I like about you.”

“Not much I like about you.”

“Yeah, see that's the thing. In fact, that's the reason I dropped by.” He lets out a hearty laugh. It's annoying, like everything else he does. Now I'm not calling him annoying because I hate him. I do hate him, but I'm not the typa dude to let my feelings get in the way of making objective observations.

My observation is that he's annoying. Like in this instance, the matter of him talking to me is annoying not only because I don't wanna be talked to, but also because every time he talks, there's a buzzing undertone, and whenever he laughs or shows any signs of excitement, that buzzing gets louder. That sound is annoying.

“What's your problem? More to the point: what's your problem with me?” he asks.

“You can't tell?” I respond. Snippy, defensive, crabby—yeah, I'll own up to that—but hey, I'm bothered.

“I mean, sure, the first time we met wasn't on good terms. I shot you full of venom, but we got that squared away. It wouldn't have done much if you didn't get so riled up every other minute—like I know you're doing now behind that solemn grimace—but whatever.”

“You goin' somewhere?”

“I've been talking with your buddy Carlos. Found out he's a pretty cool guy. So I figured that maybe, under whatever dren you're going through, you'd be a pretty cool guy, too. That's the kinda person I am. I like to get to know the people I live and work with.”

“We're not cool.”

“And why is that? Aside from me and the fellas raiding your vessel, blowing it up, and possibly killing your other crewmate, I can't think of any reason we shouldn't be friends.”

“That about sums it up.”

“No, can't be. There has to be something else.”

“Well, you are a wasp.”

“A what?”

“A wasp. It's a bug, a tiny lil' animal from my planet. Flies around, stings people for no reason. Never got along with 'em.”

“What'd they do to you?”

“Nothin'. Never gave 'em the chance.”

“Never gave them a chance? See, this is what I'm talking about. You don't give people a chance. I'm trying to give you a chance, and I'm asking you to – wait. I get it. This is a phobia thing. That makes perfect sense. Probably explains the smell you give off around me, too.”

“Didn't say I was scared.”

“But you are.”

“No.”

“Don't worry; we're all friends here.”

“No, we're not.”

And with another hearty, buzz-filled laugh, he stands up from the table, tells me how good it was speaking with me, and departs with a “See you around.”

I really hate it here. I just gotta let say that at least once or twice a day. Before, I was all upset over being in space. I hate traveling, so an unexpected trip to the cosmos was never on the to-do list. I just wanted to go home. I still wanna go home. But right now, I just wanna get off this ship. Don't care where I end up. Space is kinda cool, but these pirates ain't. So I'll hold off on the home thing. Just get me outta here.

At least the food's still good.

So now I'm walkin' down this hall. There's a group of lames gathered around talking about something. This is exactly how that fight with diamond-head started. I was walking. There was a group. He stepped out, and punches were thrown.

Now I done proved myself to the world, right? People know I can throw down. I should have a rep. I'm the “don't mess with that kid” guy. That was my name back home, too. That means I can walk where I want without anything happening, right? That's what I'm thinking.

Or.

Yeah, what if the opposite happens? What if in me establishing myself, I put a target on my head? People know what I'm about now. That's why I hate making a scene. Don't want these dudes knowin 'bout my business. Crud. So what do I do?

I inhale. Then I exhale. This is a big ship. This is a big hall. It's not the only hall that can take me to my room. They ain't worth it. Besides, you always did say to turn the other cheek. There's a shut door to my left. I place my hand on the panel next to it and it opens. If I'm right, it'll lead to the other side of this wall –

Okay, it's a room. Looks like a small room—supply closet—so if I walk on through, get this broom and mop bucket outta the way, move past this other dude throwin' up in the back corner – wait, what?

Yeah, I saw it right. The room is dark. No light's on, but I still see some human-sized dinosaur lookin' thing. Green and lizard-like, scalely skin; big head horn thing that comes off its dome and curves back towards its long, snake like, goose-like neck; duckish, bill-like snout; spikes coming from its human-like arms, particularly from the shoulders and elbows; and it's got webbed hands and feet. Definitely an odd looking alien, but I've seen odder.

So it's just holding onto some garbage bin, hackin' an' coughin' an' throwin' up these large football sized, saliva and mucus covered things. Reminds me of some dinosaur eggs. One after another. It's so weird that I just freeze where I stand and look.

Takes a coupla seconds for the dude to see me, then it just gives me this look. Like I just walked in an' caught him with his pants down. Not that this guy looks to be the pants or clothes wearing type, but the point remains. He looks embarrassed.

I don't know what to say, but I see that door on the other side of him and start to make my way towards it. I break eye contact and act like nothing's goin' on. Then right as I reach the panel by it, I hear,

“Wait.”

I stop, still trying to avoid eye contact. I'm thinkin' he might wanna ask me a favor. I'm not really in the mood to be doin' that, but –

“Don't tell anyone,” the alien says.

Now I'm thinkin' if that's it, then we straight.

“I didn't see nothin',” I say.

“I'm serious. You can't say anything. You can't let them know that I'm not like them.”

“Not what?”

“You can't tell them I'm a woman.”

“Why would I tell them—wait—why does that even matt –”

“Just don't.”

“Fine. I didn't see nothin'. You need anything?”

“I'll be fine.”

“Aight den.”

“Promise me.”

“Whatever.”

Now that took me by surprise. Not so much that the dude's a lady, but that it's a thing she's keepin' on the DL. Don't make no sense. I mean sure, didn't seem like there were any other girls on the ship, but with how weird lookin' everyone is, I wouldn't know one from another. And that's just me. All these different alien races gotta have different tell tales within their own races. I doubt everyone on board is in the know about all that.

And even if they were, who cares? Like foreal, why's that matter? These fools is pirates. I doubt a lady thief on an alien ship is any different than a guy thief. I find it hard to believe that sexism would be a thing among pirates, especially alien pirates.

That lady's just crazy.

Whatever, doe. Ain't my problem.





 
 
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